


Shamed by the Storm

by AlienAlkali



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Avizandum was not a good dad, Changed the name and thank god I did, Childhood Trauma, Ethari fixes everything, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Minor Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Runaan was raised and trained by Avizandum, Scars, This will be a few chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlienAlkali/pseuds/AlienAlkali
Summary: Runaan had a bad childhood and it shows one night when he's with Ethari. Based off of btq's theory where Runaan is raised and trained by Avizandum.
Relationships: Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Lain/Tiadrin (The Dragon Prince), Rayla & Runaan (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 52





	1. Shame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beautifulterriblequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulterriblequeen/gifts).



> Had an idea while reading btq's [Runaan, the Dragonblade](https://beautifulterriblequeen.tumblr.com/post/639277529753108480/runaan-the-dragonblade) theory. I've got 2 chapters planned in vivid detail and am considering a few more chapters. Mind the tags!

The air was thick around the two elves, heart rates elevated, breathing coming in huffs as Ethari backed Runaan up against the wall. Hands tugged at hair, legs wrapped around waists, lips clashed against lips and skin. Runaan leaned his head back when Ethari’s mouth attacked his neck and throat.

“E-Ethari...”

He knew his face was moonberry red, but by _god_ it was Ethari. It was Ethari’s teeth against his neck, Ethari’s body that had him pinned, Ethari’s hands gripping the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up, and--

Wait.

Runaan’s hands flew to Ethari’s on reflex, restraining it against his abs. They both stopped.

“Runaan?” A concerned voice asked, looking up to meet the assassin’s eyes. But there was no response. “Is everything okay, love? Do you want to stop?”

He couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. He couldn’t let him know... he couldn’t...

The craftsman untangled themselves when he didn’t get a response, got Runaan to his feet and took a step back to give him space. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” A head shake from the stoic elf. Ethari frowned. Something wasn’t right.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready. I’m willing to wait.” 

His expression went soft when Runaan dropped his head. He wanted to reach out, comfort the elf. But he didn’t. Runaan needed room to breathe, and he respected this.

After a long moment, what felt like minutes, Ethari prompted softly. “What’s wrong, love? Do you... want to talk about it?”

“I...” Runaan pursed his lips.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But know that you’re not alone.”

“I...” Then his shoulders were shaking and he curled into himself. 

_Weak! Pathetic! Slow! You will never be good enough at this rate!_ the memories of his childhood reminded himself. In that moment, all he felt was shame as he curled up on the ground, tears falling. Gross. He was disgusting. So weak and vulnerable. No wonder he was never as good as the others. He tried to hide himself from the elf in front of him. There was no doubt that he thought the same too. It had just been a matter of time.

But then there were arms surrounding him, pulling him close. They were warm and strong. As he was pulled into Ethari’s lap, Runaan buried his face into the shoulder provided to hide himself. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He shook more violently as he was rocked back and forth, clinging onto Ethari’s shirt. “That’s it, let it all out.” What was he doing? Why was he doing it? He didn’t deserve this. Ethari deserved better. Runaan didn’t deserve him. He wasn’t enough. _Pathetic._

“I... I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” he gasped out.

“For what? You have done nothing wrong.”

“I’m sorry...” was all he said. Over and over again.

“Runaan, listen to me,” he decided firmly, fingers lifting the assassin’s chin to force eye contact. “Are you listening?”

He gulped before nodding, heart dropping. This was it. This was where he would get his heart broken. Why did he ever think courting him was a good idea in the first place? He knew it would end up like this. He attempted to steel his nerves, but he could not. He felt the judgement of his ancestors looking down on him. _There is no room in your life for a heart. You feel nothing. You are not deserving of a heart. The only thing you are good for is your duty._ Even then, he would never be good enough.

“There is _nothing_ to be sorry for. Nothing, you hear me?” What? “It’s okay if you’re not ready. It’s okay. Because I love you.” He...

“You... love me?” That was the first time Ethari had said those words. 

That was the first time Runaan had ever been told he was loved.

“Yes,” he reassured firmly, as though nothing would change that. But... that couldn’t be right. This was wrong. But if this was wrong, then why did it feel so _right_? “I love you. I love you so much.” He kissed Runaan’s forehead. “Moon, you have no idea how precious you are to me. But don’t you _ever_ be ashamed of yourself. Because you are _so strong_ in ways you can’t even fathom. And that is so special, so beautiful. And I will never stop loving you for _who you are._ ”

Runaan’s face had dried up, but now his lip started trembling and tears started to gather in his eyes once again as the firm words hit him like his own arrow. Why? Why did he have to do this?

They sat there for what must have been an hour until Runaan had calmed down. Ethari was humming, placing kisses all over him, feather-light and loving. So tender, so gentle. Like a hurt child. He was treating him like a hurt child. Had it been anyone else, Runaan would have been offended and embarrassed. But for whatever reason, he didn’t right now. Runaan took a shuddering breath as he gathered his courage.

“Ethari, I--” Was he ready? Even thinking about it brought so much shame. He’d failed. He had to live with it. But what about Ethari? _He needs to know what he’s getting himself into._

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it, dear?”

Another shuddering breath. _Don’t be so selfish._ Runaan didn’t deserve his love, he wasn’t strong, but Ethari deserved this. He needed to know the truth.

“Do you remember when I first arrived in the Silvergrove?

~-~-~-~-~

Death comes easy. It’s quick. It’s dark. It’s heavy. It welcomes with open arms. Runaan was no stranger to death. Part of his reason for existence was to walk that thin line between life and death. To guide others to the other side where they would rest forever and ever. Death was merciful.

Life was not.

“I can’t believe...” Ethari’s hand bunched up the sheets they were under. “After all this time, and how many? How many others had suffered the same?”

Suffered? Surely he had meant _trained._

“All assassin leaders are trained under the guidance of the Dragon King.” Avizandum was several hundred years old; elves lived to be about 132 if healthy and lucky. Assassins, not so much.

Ethari’s thoughts went back to the previous assassin leader. They had been hard, stoic, duty-bound, just like Runaan when he first arrived after the death of the previous leader. The difference between them was that Runaan had a soft streak, as Ethari had personally discovered, and the previous leader had not. Or rather, they did, but it never showed. Friends and a companion were not something on their list of priorities. It wasn’t forbidden, there were no rules against it, spoken or unspoken, it just wasn’t a priority for assassin leaders. Suddenly, Ethari understood why.

“It’s not fair,” the craftsman grumbled.

Runaan’s brows knitted. “I don’t understand.”

“You were raised to-- to be heartless! You were never given a childhood, or any affection at all! That’s not fair!”

He wasn’t sure where all this anger was coming from. This was how things were. How was it unfair? Exhausted from his emotional breakdown--or rather, having felt any emotion at all--Runaan sighed and decided not to think about it. This was getting dangerously close to disrespecting the King.

Ethari seemed to notice this, so he calmed himself and settled further into the bed. They still had all their clothes on, but that was okay. He was with Runaan, and that’s all that mattered. Several moments had passed in silence and Ethari had started to think the other elf was asleep until his quiet voice called out.

“About tonight...”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

The assassin hesitated. He didn’t want to. But he _needed_ to. For Ethari. Ethari needed to know. Shame crawled its way up through him as he took more calming breaths.

“I was taught to fear nothing. I had been trained to be perfect. But I wasn’t. I was slower than the skywings around me. I knew this, and so did he. Everyone did. The skywings... they pitied me. I always hated it when they gave me those sad looks after every confrontation with Avizandum. I hated it. And he hated me.”

“Runaan...”

“My first mission had been a hard one: kill the queens of Duren.” He took another moment to collect himself. A leader’s first mission would prove their worthiness. “So I did. But Queen Neha had been wandering around late that night. The door had been left open a crack, but when I entered, I’d closed it and the movement of my blade had caused the lamp to extinguish. Queen Neha noticed before she entered her room. She got away and I was forced to retreat. I... I failed.”

“Love--” But when he reached his hand out, Runaan recoiled. Tears welled up in Ethari’s eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. I... I’m not sure I can--”

“When I got back, Avizandum noticed I still had one binding tied to me. He was outraged. I had failed him and in his anger he...” A tear fell and shame overtook him again. Weak. 

He lifted his shirt. “He lashed out.”

A gasp escaped the craftsman and he covered his mouth, tears falling freely at the sight of the long scar running across Runaan’s abdomen.

“I’d tried to ignore the looks of the skywing elves that peeked from behind walls. I hated every moment of it, but if I showed that, it would anger him further. There wasn’t anything I could do when I saw him bring his tail back.” He covered up his scars again. “That’s... that’s why I stopped you when you lifted my shirt.”

 _Stand still,_ the words rang in his head. _You deserve this,_ were his words when Runaan fell to his knees. His hands had come back bloody after touching the lash. Shame, as he knelt before the King. Shame, as he forced himself upright out of the room. Shame, as the eyes of surprised elves followed him away. Shame. But he hadn’t been surprised. 

So he stood still as he had been told. He took the lashing because he had deserved it.

He’d then waited another month until the next full moon to complete his mission. Shame when he left, and shame when he returned. He’d kept the binding on his arm for a month, almost losing his arm. Shame as it fell. Shame as he retreated to camp, holding back his screams as blood poured into his arm again. The pain didn’t go away for a long time.

But then warm arms were enveloping him and he was brought back to the present, realising what he had done. But this wasn’t the judgement he was expecting. _I don’t understand._

“I’m so sorry,” the other elf whispered. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t have been there. I’m sorry you had to experience such things. What happened to you was _wrong._ ”

“What...?”

Ethari smiled sadly. “It wasn’t your fault. You were treated wrongly. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“But...”

“Can I...?”

Runaan nodded slowly, allowing Ethari to pull his shirt up again. This time he pulled it off and Runaan let him. He cringed when Ethari gasped again, noticing another scar below the one in the front, running across his left side to his lower back. The first looked like how Runaan had described; a tail lashing, almost like someone took a large paintbrush and haphazardly stroked a lighter skin tone on. They weren’t scars from a blade, they weren’t a clean line. Instead, the ends of the lash trailed off like the bristles of a brush on canvas. But the second scar... looked more like a blade or... a claw, running from his front to his back.

Ethari closed his eyes and tried to push that thought away. He leaned forward, pressing kisses to the scar tissue.

“You’re so beautiful, so strong and caring. I know it’s hard to understand right now, but I’ll help you understand in time.”

“I...”

“I know, love.”

“Ethari... I... I love you.”


	2. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runaan needs to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KoalatyDM, we have a better title! ... One that doesn't sound wrong... (You're a lifesaver, fam!)
> 
> Unedited, bc I can't find the strength. Tell me if you find any typos.

The scroll rested heavy in his hand and his boots didn’t even make a sound as he walked in the rain. The time had come. He had to make a choice. No matter _how_ this went down, Runaan wasn’t going to like the outcomes. He had talked a little bit about it with Ethari, but his wonderful husband had told him not to worry for now.

_We’ll deal with it when the time comes._

And now the time had come.

He hadn’t even knocked on the door when it swung open before him, an exhausted Lain standing in the doorway. His friend’s eyes said it all: she was here. Runaan’s heart thumped as he walked into the home. Ethari was already here. Tiadrin was propped up on the couch, her arms holding--

“You want to hold her?”

She was here. He walked forward slowly, afraid that this wasn’t real. Afraid that it was. He had to make a choice.

She was small as she wriggled in his arms, grabbing onto his finger was strong hands. He smiled just a little. She was here. A small huff when she brought his finger to her mouth.

“Silly, that’s not what that’s for,” he whispered fondly.

She cooed back and in that moment Runaan knew he would _never_ let her go. He would _never_ stop protecting her. Not ever.

Just like that, and with a little nudging from Ethari to rock her, she fell asleep. Right there in his arms. An act of trust. _Don’t worry, little one. I will keep you safe. I will value your trust and guard it with my life._

“What’s her name?” Ethari asked quietly.

Lain and Tiadrin shared a glace.

“Rayla.”

He looked down at her, his heart swelling with the need to protect. Never had he felt something like this before. Never had he felt such a love so strong. He loved Ethari, but this... this was different. He brought his forehead to hers.

“I’ll keep you safe, Rayla.”

~-~-~-~-~

After the little Rayla had been put in her cradle, Lain returned, his eyes finding the scroll Runaan had set on the counter. He met Runaan’s eyes.

“New mission assignments?”

Runaan’s eyes fell to the ground. _I’ll keep you safe, Rayla._

“From the Spire.”

Tiadrin glanced between the two, feeling a change in atmosphere.

“Must be important, then.”

He couldn’t find it in him to make eye contact as he leaned against the counter. No. Not another mission. Not another target to take or a kingdom to strike. No, none of that this time.

“I’ve been assassin leader for a few years now.” The words hang heavy in preparation for his next. “I need to make my choice.”

The room was eerily quiet now. Runaan was young, sure, but everyone knew that assassins didn’t live forever. Runaan would have to be replaced at some time, and his successor would have to be trained in the ways of their ancestors.

“Can’t you chose someone else? Anyone else?” Tiadrin’s voice pleaded, but even she knew it was a crazy request.

“I wouldn’t ask someone else to give up their child. I know Rayla isn’t mine, but... usually the successor is someone close to the leader of the assassins. Rayla’s all I’ve got.”

Her eyes watered. “There has to be something else we can do.”

His heart broke. No parent wanted to leave their child in the care of someone else. He didn’t want to do this either.

“There is one other option I can request. You won’t like it, though.”

“Anything, as long as we get to keep her.”

He made eye contact with Ethari, who took his hand.

“You won’t get to keep her. You’ll... you would have to take her place.”

More quiet as this sunk in.

“How would that work?” Lain asked earnestly.

“You serve in the Dragonguard... Ethari and I would raise her.”

Lain nodded his understanding. All things considered, it was the best option. Not just for their family, but for everyone else in the Silvergrove. Had it been any other family Runaan would be confronting, he wouldn’t be able to request such a thing from the Dragon King. Tiadrin and Lain were some of the best fighters. They would be enough leverage to strike the deal.

“But... we won’t get to raise her.” The crack in Tiadrin’s voice nearly broke him.

“You’re right. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered, hating himself for bringing this upon their family. Ethari pulled him in for a hug.

“This isn’t your fault, love. Don’t blame this on yourself.”

The assassin nodded. Ever since that first night when Runaan had confessed his childhood to Ethari, Runaan had slowly started to become more aware of himself and of his past. Now, he knew. He knew it was wrong. But this wasn’t his own fault.

“What difference does it make if we stay or if we go?” Tiadrin’s voice reminded them of their problem at hand.

“If you stay, Rayla will be trained and raised by Avizandum. If you go, she will be trained my me and raised by Ethari and me.”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you both, but... we would be able to visit Rayla more if she lived in the Storm Spire, right?”

The three men tensed. Tiadrin didn’t know. That wasn’t her fault; he’d only told Ethari, and Lain just so happened to know because... of reasons. But Tiadrin didn’t know. He didn’t have the heart or strength to talk about it with anyone other than Ethari.

“Tiadrin...” Lain started, but Runaan stepped in.

“No. She needs to know what she’s getting herself and her daughter into.” 

Ethari held him close, resting his chin on Runaan’s head, the assassin’s arm against his husband’s chest. Gentle kisses were pressed to his temples as Runaan gathered his strength.

_There’s no way in hell I’m letting Avizandum instruct her._

_I’ll keep you safe, Rayla._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will have more action! And be longer. This didn't turn out quite how I wanted, but...


End file.
